Don't touch what you can't have
by mermaidQt
Summary: Don't touch what you can't have or you may want to keep itrewrote ch. one
1. Default Chapter

I rewrote this chapter tell me if its better any ways read and review Disclaimer: I don't own any character. I wish I did ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hermione, Hermione" She heard her mother's pleas, but chose to ignore it. It was summer vacation after all, and she was sleeping in.  
  
"Hermione Granger, get your lazy self out of this bed!" Hermione's mother was shaking her daughter's shoulder, attempting to stir her.   
  
"Hermione you need to get up. I have to go to work and you're supposed to meet Harry and Ron at eleven" Mr. Granger said, a bit agitated.  
  
"I know and its 9:36. I don't have classes, I don't have homework, so I'm sleeping in." Hermione said stubbornly, rolling over on her side to go back to sleep.  
  
"Ohhh fine I give up" Mrs. Granger said before turning around to leave. When she got to the front door she called up to her daughter  
  
"I'll see you at Christmas dear. Have a good year"  
  
"Yeah yeah..see you" Hermione yawned, and fell back against her pillow.  
  
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"11:30," Harry said, checking his wristwatch. "You think she's okay?" Harry asked nervously.  
  
"Probably just reading or something. You know her." Ron shrugged and started reading his copy of Quidditch Though the Ages.  
  
"I don't know...it's not like Hermione to be late." Harry argued.  
  
They both knew Harry was right-she had never been late for anything they could remember. Finally at 12:15 the two decided to go and check on her. They apparated there, Harry being anxious to try out his new apparating license, which he had acquired that week. He had always hated Floo powder; in his opinion, the spinning was enough to make you sick. They managed to find the front hallway in one piece, but from there, they were lost. Having never been to the Granger household, they couldn't begin to know where to look. The only reason they even knew where it Hermione lived was because she had written her address on a piece of paper and given it to them before school ended, instructing them to visit her after they obtained apparating licenses. They searched the downstairs and not finding her, trudged up the stairs and started searching.  
  
"How about that door?" Ron tried, pointing to a door they must have over looked.  
  
"Maybe," Harry said hopefully. He was awfully tired of looking.  
  
"And behind door number umm" Ron counted all the doors they had gone through "015 I think anyway behind door 15 is?"  
  
Opening the door, Harry laughed and said, "A sleeping Hermione."  
  
Ron stopped laughing after glancing at Hermione. He had gone red, and was pulling on his ear-a clear sign he was embarrassed. Harry was clueless why. "Ron what the-?" Ron just pointed to were Hermione lay and Harry blushed too. Upon turning over in her sleep, Hermione had revealed her pajamas-if they could be classified as 'pajamas.' She wore a skimpy white tank top, the bust line embellished with lace, and the whole thing giving off a satiny shine. It was then Harry and Ron both realized that they're sweet, bossy little bookworm had, in fact, relinquished to nature and blossomed into a beautifully busty young woman.  
  
"Were going to have a hell of a time keeping guys off her." Ron joked, still pulling at his ear. Harry nodded. "Kind of makes you wish we asked her out when she wasn't so irresistible. Now all we'll be are rebound boyfriends, if we even classify as boyfriend material. She'll be able to have any guy she chooses." Ron looked mildly depressed. "We were idiots." Harry agreed. "More like dumb asses," Ron decided that was the word that fitted their behavior. "Think we should wake her up?"   
  
"I don't know...I don't want to. She looks so peaceful." Harry sighed.  
  
Was that Harry? No she was just dreaming  
  
"Good point. And I doubt we'll ever get to see her in that top again..." Ron smirked.  
  
If I am dreaming it sounds so real. That's Ron isn't it? Ron wouldn't say something like that  
  
Harry laughed. "I bet she'd think we were crazy, standing here and staring like this."  
  
This wasn't a dream-it was real. Wasn't it?  
  
"So what should we do Harry?" Ron asked "Wake her or let her sleep?"  
  
It's not a dream, it's real all right.  
  
"I think we shou." but Harry was interrupted  
  
"I think she should get off her lazy ass and greet her best friends" Hermione said smiling. She pulled the covers off and sat up. "I thought we we're meeting at 11?"  
  
"Well maybe you should check the clock because it's almost one" Ron smiled. He couldn't help it.  
  
Hermione jumped up and looked at her clock. "I am so sorry! I would have slept till four if you two hadn't come!" She hugged them both and kissed their cheeks. Ron turned bright red and nearly yanked his ear off.  
  
"No big deal," Harry said, shrugging. He was enjoying the view. "We might not have seen your little...outfit." Hermione laughed and did a little turn for them. Ron laughed, Harry nodded approvingly. "You like it?" She asked flirtatiously, as her door opened and two more boys walked in. Fred and George Weasley, both tall and devastatingly handsome, greeted the trio and handed Hermione an envelope. "there was an owl in the front hall holding this" Fred informed her. "Oh my god! I made Head Girl!" Hermione bounced about her room, obviously overjoyed. George leaned against the wall, and watched, his eyes never leaving Hermione and her outfit. Fred stopped next to him and popped his jaw into place. "There you go." He smirked to his twin. "It was in danger of falling off." Turning toward Hermione, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Is that your Hogwarts letter?"  
  
"Yeah, why?" Hermione asked, a bit out of breath from all the bouncing.  
  
"Mum wants it so she can get your stuff." Fred explained, taking the letter and putting it in his pocket. "By the way, great outfit. Suits your figure perfectly."  
  
"Really?" she asked looking at her self in the mirror. "I thought it made my ass look big..."  
  
"No, I think it makes your ass look great. Those knickers just fit it beautifully?" Fred nodded. The other three boys watched in disbelief. As Fred was leaving, he winked at Ron and Harry. "Be good, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."  
  
"That's saying a lot since you lost your virginity in what, fourth year? Right, who was it? Angelina?" Ron teased. "How'd you know? Oh never mind, I'll find out later." Fred gave a little wave "Let's go George, George!" Fred turned around to see his twin still standing there. "It's just a girl in her knickers, you git." Fred dragged George to the hallway and CRACK they were gone.  
  
"So where's your stuff Hermione?" Ron asked looking around.  
  
"It's over by the bureau...hold on, I need to pack a few more things..." Hermione bustled about, neatly folding clothes and putting them in her trunk. "All right, I'm ready to go!" She announced.  
  
"Er...Hermione...your clothes?" Ron said, looking her up and down.  
  
"Oh, right!" She grabbed a few things from her drawers and ran into the bathroom. About twenty minutes later, she emerged in a short, jean skirt, and a tight white shirt. "Hey, Harry, did you pass your apparation test?" "Yeah," Harry said, carrying her trunk out of her room with Ron. "It was pretty easy." "Oh my god!" Hermione exclaimed. "Harry-it's your birthday!" She darted back into her room and emerged with a wrapped box. "Here you go." Harry took the red present carefully and peeled back the paper. He gasped, tears collecting in his eyes. "Where did you find this?" He asked breathlessly.  
  
"Hello Harry" the gift said  
  
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Authors note:  
  
So what is the gift any guesses?? Well I hope you liked it. Should I go on???? Please review  
  
And to all you Draco fans he will come in the 3rd or 4th chapter or maybe even the 2nd 


	2. Mistaken Destination

hey guys sorry about the wait. my teacher caught me writing my story in class and took it and threw it away and gave me a week worth of detention. But its here and this chapter is a bit more emotional... well I hope you all like it. Read and Review  
  
thanks Jamie for all the help!  
  
Chapter 2: Mistaken Destination Tears threatened to spill from Harry's emerald green eyes as he whispered, "Hello Sirius."  
  
Sirius Black nodded his head. "It's been awhile." The portrait looked so real that Harry felt as if Sirius was alive again. He had been painted with his same old unruly hair down to his shoulders, his black eyes gleaming with mischief just like Harry had remembered.  
  
"It sure has." Harry spoke absently, looking into his godfathers eyes. Wiping away his tears, he glanced up at Hermione. "Where did you get this?" He asked, curious, confused, and elated all at once.  
  
"Well after, you know, you started shutting yourself off from everyone, and I asked Dumbledore if there was a way for you to see him again. He said he didn't know, Everard suggested a portrait of Sirius. I was scared, Harry. I saw how hurt you were and it hurt me too." Harry took in a deep breathe. Great, I hurt her, he thought. I hurt my best friend and more importantly the girl I love. Why does it seem like I hurt everyone I know? Breaking apart Harry's reverie were Hermione's next words: "I was scared because I thought...I thought that you'd do something drastic."  
  
Harry looked at his godfather. Running his hands along the frame, for he couldn't look Hermione in the eye, he whispered, "I wouldn't have done anything, Hermione." But even as his traitorous tongue said them, he knew those words were a lie. He had thought about just taking his life so he wouldn't have to deal with the shit in his life. So he'd get a break from all the pain. He'd always wished he could switch places with someone. Give them the gift that was his name, his identity, his life. Have someone else deal with the torture. How he would love to see someone like Draco Malfoy go through just one day in his 'wonderful' life. Harry had always believed that no one would understand him, or how he felt. How much he hated his life. But sometimes, there was just the nagging, "What if?"  
  
Hermione sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. Harry looked up immediately, and was disturbed to find her look so sad. Hermione looked away, feeling suddenly cold. All she could remember were the dreams. The dreams that kept her awake night after sleepless night, the dreams that left her with a despairing emptiness. As she closed her eyes to stop the tears from coming, images flashed in her head. Harry hanging himself, cutting himself, falling, drowning, burning, each time he died. By now, the dreams had run together. They were an endless slur of heartache and pain.  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked urgently as she fell to her knees and poured her heart out through her tears.  
  
"Hermione?!" Both boys cried as they rushed to her side.  
  
"H-Harry just, just promise me you w-won't hurt yourself I wo-wouldn't be able to handle it," she sobbed as she leaned up against Ron's chest, unable to look at Harry.  
  
Harry choked; he couldn't get any words out. Ron made soothing noises, but all Hermione could do was cry. Ron met Harry's gaze, his eyes reflecting the pain of the girl in his arms. Harry couldn't take it. It's funny how I, the great Harry Potter, can face Voldemort and live but seeing the girl I love cry kills me. Harry thought. His throat was tight, words were slipping through his fingers, and his chest contracted painfully around his heart.  
  
"Hermione, I won't do anything, I promise." Harry said finally. He tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn't look at him.  
  
"Please, Harry. Those nightmares are all I can think about sometimes."  
  
"What nightmares?" Ron questioned, his tone concerned. Hermione sobbed harder, her mind whirling. Should I tell them? She asked herself, unable to stop her tears. I should, but what if they don't understand?  
  
"I don't want to talk about it." She murmured, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. How could she have told them her tears were all because of Harry?  
  
"You know you can trust us with anything, Hermione." Ron said comfortingly. Why don't they see it? He asked himself, looking between his two best friends. They're so in love, but they just can't see it.  
  
Hermione looked up into Ron's eyes, searching his bright blue irises as if they held the answer she needed. Not finding it, she turned to face Harry, but as her chocolate brown orbs met his strikingly emerald ones, every dream she had ever had about Harry pounded behind her eyes, each one showing the boy who lived, the boy she loved, falling onto the ground, lifeless.  
  
Harry concentrated on the visions. He held his breath as he came to one involving not only himself, but his enemy Draco Malfoy as well. Hermione was standing there next to a wall with what looked like two bundles in her arms watching as Harry fell to the floor. It was then that Malfoy drawled in his cold, familiar voice, "Believe it Potter. I love her and always will." Hermione ran to Malfoy's side, handing him a bundle and looking at him in a way that Harry dreamed she might look at him.  
  
"It's true," She whispered, the wind pulling at her voice and whipping her hair around her face. "I love him, and he loves me" As Harry lay there on the ground, blood soaking into the dry, sandy earth, Hermione walked away with Draco Malfoy.  
  
Everything went black and another dream came into view. Apparently Hermione wasn't crying over this one. It was late at night, Harry couldn't tell where, but Draco and Hermione were locked in a passionate embrace. Lip to lip, Harry watched as Draco's nimble fingers began to undo the buttons on Hermione's blouse. He quickly searched for a different dream, but the nightmare never came. The images from Hermione's head rewound in a blur of colors and Harry suddenly found himself back in the same room, standing a few feet before his two best friends, one comforting the other, who was in his arms, crying. Hermione was sobbing harder. Ron looked at Harry; he knew exactly what Harry had done. Ever since last year when Harry had learned how to use Legilimency he would invade people's thoughts to pull out snippets of information or truth. Ron had learned that he might as well tell Harry anything and everything because he could find out anyway. Harry snapped back to the present, his mind whirling. Malfoy. Hermione. Words and pictures and colors flashed before his eyes, but one lingered. The image of Hermione sleeping just as the two boys had arrived. She was so peaceful, so serene, and so genuinely beautiful. Harry thought, but another crossed his mind: that contented smile had been the effects of her dreams. Her dreams about Malfoy. Harry glared coldly down at the slumped figures on the floor.  
  
Hermione could almost feel Harry's gaze upon her. Taking in gasps of air to try to calm down, Hermione felt a small pang of anger. How dare he do that without asking her first? She had said she didn't want to talk about, and she had meant it. Her dreams and thoughts were personal; if she had wanted Harry to know, he should have trusted her to tell him. Finally stopping the flow of tears, she looked up and met his emotionless green eyes.  
  
"Harry I--" she began.  
  
"We should get you to the Burrow" he cut her off, turning away to start gathering her bags. Hermione sighed and stood up, the bitter taste of anger filling her words.  
  
"Why the hell did you do that!?!" Her voice was demanding and sharp.  
  
Harry ignored her question. "Did you have that dream just last night?" Hermione nodded shyly.  
  
Harry turned swiftly and headed for the door when Hermione found her voice. "Harry, it was only a dream..." She tried to explain, her feelings for Harry overcoming any rage. If she could only make things between them better, maybe he'd forget about that dream, Harry spun around.  
  
"It was Malfoy, Hermione. Draco Malfoy!" Harry practically screamed.  
  
"A dream. Just a dream." Hermione almost whispered, her voice soft and pleading.  
  
"A dream is a wish your heart makes." Harry said glaring at her, his tone filled with disappointment and disgust. "Apparently, you've got a rather traitorous heart."  
  
"I guess so, since it's betraying what I feel." Hermione laughed, a strange, cold sound. "I thought I loved you, Harry. I thought that you were all I could ever want and everything I'd ever need. But I guess my heart says otherwise." Harry stared at her, his mind vaguely telling him that the girl he loved reciprocated that feeling, but all he could see was the image of her pressed against Malfoy. "I guess I was wrong." Hermione's voice cracked through Harry's daydream. "I don't need you."  
  
"Peas in a pod, darling." Harry said coldly. "I don't think I ever needed you. It was fun while it lasted." He turned to leave, but paused at the door. "I don't think anyone could ever love you."  
  
Hermione stared at Harry's retreating form until her vision was too blurred to see. She fell to the ground hard, her legs buckling beneath her. Ron knelt down next to her and tried to hold her, but she pushed him away. Harry turned around and looked through the door, locking eyes with Ron. "Too far." The red-head mouthed, before turning back to Hermione. Harry apparated with a small pop and appeared next to his bed at the Burrow. He tossed the portrait of his godfather onto the clean white sheets and sank to the floor. What's wrong with me? He thought frantically. I fancy her, don't I? Then why did I say that?  
  
"Why did she dream of him?" Harry murmured miserably.  
  
"Why did who dream of whom?" A familiar voice asked. Harry glanced up to meet the eyes of Fred and George Weasley.  
  
"It's complicated." Harry said, trying to avoid any further questions. "I don't really want to talk about it."  
  
"But now we really want to know." George said. The twins sat down on the floor next to Harry.  
  
"You have to tell us, mate." Fred grinned. "Talking really helps sometimes, and George and I are excellent with advice on girls." Harry sighed, and began to explain.  
  
"Malfoy, eh?" George whistled. "That's rough."  
  
"On both of you." Fred interjected.  
  
"Both of us?" Harry asked incredulously. "She seemed as if she were having an excellent time!" The two brothers looked at each other and sighed.  
  
"Harry," George started.  
  
"You have to understand, girls don't always like the right kind of guy." Fred shrugged. "She didn't choose to have that dream, mate."  
  
"You should have heard her when she woke up." A slightly muffled voice added. Fred and George looked around suspiciously, before Harry pulled the portrait down. At the curious glances, Harry explained.  
  
"Hermione gave it to me for my birthday." Harry looked down at his godfather. "What did she say when she woke up?"  
  
"Well," Sirius started, looking almost eager. "She was crying, asking herself how she could be so selfish, so stupid, to leave you when you needed her." Harry looked away.  
  
"See?" George said after a moment of silence. "It's not her fault. I think you owe someone a rather heartfelt apology." Harry sighed.  
  
"I suppose you're right."  
  
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...  
  
Back at Hermione's House*  
  
"Hermione, we should really get back to the Burrow." Ron said softly.  
  
"But what about--"  
  
"I don't care about Harry. I'm not leaving you here alone, and I should probably get back soon." Ron sighed. "He doesn't hate you, Hermione. Quite the contrary. He's just upset that you chose Malfoy over him, even if it was in a dream."  
  
"Maybe he's right." Hermione said quietly, folding her last few items and placing them in her trunk. "Maybe no one needs me. Maybe no one could ever love me, either."  
  
Ron ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "He does love you, Hermione. And he needs you more than either of you will ever know. But he's upset right now. Give it time."  
  
"I don't want to, Ron." Hermione snapped her trunk shut and faced him, her almond eyes coldly indifferent. "I've given him all the time in the world and he wasted every second of it. If a simple dream can tear our friendship apart, it wasn't as strong as I had come to believe. He doesn't need me, he doesn't love me." Picking up her trunk, she walked out the door. "And more importantly, I don't love him."  
  
Ron followed, carrying the other two bags and Crookshanks in his wicker basket. I tried, mate. I really did. He thought sullenly. The two walked in silence to the fireplace. Placing the bags on the floor to reach for some Floo powder, Ron asked, "Hermione, this won't change anything between the two if us, will it?"  
  
"Of course not Ron!" Hermione said, taking a pinch of powder for herself and replacing the canister on her mantle. "You and I are just as close as ever."  
  
"Good." Ron said with a smile. He stepped into the fireplace with all of Hermione's bags, dropped his powder, and yelled. "The Burrow!" And in an instant and a flash of purple light, he was gone. Hermione smiled slightly and stepped in after Ron. Taking a deep breath to say her destination, Hermione accidentally swallowed a mouthful of soot.  
  
"Oh, for Merlin's sake." She muttered angrily, forgetting about her Floo powder and dropping it in an attempt to cover her face. Suddenly, the world around her started spinning. "Shit," she muttered closing her eyes tight. She wondered were the hell she was going to end up. God she hated Floo powder. The spinning slowly started to subside so Hermione threw her hands out in front of her, bracing herself for the fall, but the fall never came. Instead of colliding with the hard floor, she found herself in a pair of muscular arms. Being wrapped in that warm, strong embrace gave Hermione a feeling of complete safety, as if nothing could hurt her as long as she never left the person holding her.  
  
"Are you lost, ma'am?" A familiar voice asked. Hermione was almost afraid to look up, but felt herself compelled to do so. Silver eyes sparked in recognition. "Why the hell are you in my house, Granger?" Draco demanded roughly, but found that as harsh as his words had been, his arms were incapable of releasing the girl he was holding.  
  
"I didn't mean to come here... was going to the Burrow." Hermione started explaining meekly, more just filling silence and calming her nerves than actually informing him of her trip. Draco rolled his eyes and tried to remove his arms, but found he was quite paralyzed. Why can't I let go of her? He asked himself. Because she fits so perfectly, his conscience told him. Hermione was still talking as Draco looked down at her. She had curves in all the right places and her outfit suited her perfectly. The white shirt showed just how busty she had become. She must have been 5â€™7", but she seemed so short with him being 6â€™1". His breath caught in his throat.  
  
"You can let go of me now." Hermione squeaked. She knew if he did let go, she would fall to the ground. God, he makes me feel so weak, she thought to herself.  
  
"What if I don't want to?" he breathed, tightening his hold on her. Draco didn't know what he was saying, or even why he was saying it, but it felt so right. Hermione was left speechless, but she didn't even have time to think, as his lips claimed hers. Too shocked to respond, Hermione stood motionless before the warmth from Draco's body flooded her veins and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He begged entrance, and Hermione was only too happy to comply. Slipping his tongue inside her mouth, he explored every inch, as if he'd never have the chance to hold this girl in his arms again. Faintly muffled voices rang from the hall: "He's this way, my Lord." Draco pulled back suddenly.  
  
"Did I do something wrong?" Hermione asked anxiously, her face flushed and her lips bruised. Draco did all he could not to pull her against him again.  
  
"No, but you have to hide now." He said seriously. "Voldemort's coming." Hearing Volemort's name made Hermione stiffened.  
  
"Where?" she asked, looking around the room for the first time and noticing she was in a library. Almost every single wall was covered in books or pictures of what must be Draco's ancestors. The room was at least two stories high with ladders reaching the very top of the room. Hermione would have been elated under different circumstances.  
  
"Hurry, underneath the couch." Draco said pushing her toward a black leather couch. "I don't know if I can fit under there." Hermione whispered, looking at the small space under the couch.  
  
"You've got to try." Draco whispered back. Hermione sighed and got down on her stomach, sliding underneath. It was a tight squeeze, and Hermione could only just breathe. "Well, at least he won't find you." Draco said, more to himself as he walked to the front of the couch and sat down gently with a book. Hermione gasped as the extra pressure was added.  
  
Just as Draco opened the book, the door unlocked and his father and Voldemort walked inside. He barely contained a look of utter disgust. He loathed his father. Lucius had been awarded a life sentence in Azkaban, but he had managed to weasel his way out. Draco glared at his father and stood, gesturing to a seat beside him. Lucius stood beside his master's chair, knowing to sit would make him an equal to Voldemort. Draco sat after Voldemort had settled in his chair.  
  
"Draco, I have some good news." Voldemort smiled sickly. "You are to earn the Dark Mark. All I need is an offering of your loyalty." Hermione gasped as she heard this. The room fell silent and Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for the worst. Voldemort motioned to Lucius, who fell to his knees beside the couch and pushed it away from Hermione. Smirking, Voldemort locked eyes with Draco. "Her corpse should do quite nicely."  
  
Draco bit his lip in hesitation but pulled Hermione off the floor and stood in front of her. He pulled out his wand slowly, trying to stall for time. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.  
  
"I can't afford to wait all day, Draco." Voldemort said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Just get it over with." Hermione waited, but nothing happened. "I see." Voldemort said after a weighted pause. "Lucius, I expect you will do what is fitting." Striding out, he left two Malfoy's and Hermione alone in the library.  
  
"What's wrong with you, boy?" Lucius seethed his voice low and dangerous. "You've been given the opportunity of a lifetime, and you threw it away! And for what?" Lucius roughly pushed Hermione against the wall. "A piece of mudblood filth."  
  
"Have you ever considered that maybe I don't want to be like you?" Draco spat, ignoring his father's biting words against Hermione.  
  
"No." Lucius said simply, pulling out his wand. "Because I will make you like me whether you want to or not." Taking Draco's forearm in a rough grasp, he smirked. "Each Death Eater is allowed to bestow the Dark Mark onto only one other person. I've chosen you, Draco. Now, hold still." Lucius closed his eyes and started to mutter a spell. The tip of his wand was pressed against Draco's forearm and glowed red. Draco clenched his teeth together and waited, looking around the room. He was surprised to see Hermione still standing there, and as they locked eyes, he whispered, "No."  
  
"What?" Lucius said, breaking his spell. "What did you say?"  
  
"No."  
  
Lucius, eyes flashed and his grip tightened. "Yes." Concentrating harder than before, the tip of his wand burned against Draco's forearm. The pain was unbearable. Draco fell to his knees, his body slumped and defeated, but when he looked up, his eyes met his reflection in the mirror. Is this what you want to be? It asked him. A pawn of evil? Taking orders from a ruined man? With a final burst of energy, Draco ripped his arm away from his father's grip and rolled backwards. Lucius took one step back in shock, before advancing in rage.  
  
"How dare you." He spat. "How dare you defy me, your father, and how dare you defy the Dark Lord. A Malfoy has never resisted the Dark Mark." Lucius paused, a sick smile gracing his thin white lips. "And lived." With that last thought, he stormed out of the library. Hermione waited until his footsteps faded before rushing to Draco. He was lying on his back, clutching his arm.  
  
"Are, are you all right?" She asked nervously.  
  
"Does it look like I'm all right?" Draco hissed through clenched teeth. "I need to see a healer. Help me up, I need to get to the fireplace." Hermione barely aided Draco in standing, but grabbed two handfuls of Floo powder. Grasping onto Draco's shoulder, she tossed the powder into the fire, stepped inside, and yelled, "The Burrow!" The familiar spinning engulfed them and soon enough, the two tumbled out onto the carpet of the Weasley's living room.  
  
"Hermione?" A familiar voice asked, sounding very surprised.  
  
"Malfoy?!" Another voice asked in pure shock. Hermione stood up and smiled sheepishly.  
  
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So what did ya think??? sorry about the cliffy. but it keeps readers interested and I promise not to take to long updating this time  
  
lotz of love  
*mermaidcuttie* 


	3. A known past

Hey everyone im sososo sorry about the wait I wont keep u waiting that long for chapter Four I promise! well I hope u like this chapter  
  
Chapter 3:  
Everyone in the Weasley family stood up and rushed to see the couple as they got up, dusting themselves off.  
"Oh, perfect place to take us, Granger. Are you trying to get me killed yet again?" Draco sneered under his breath.  
"I didn't know where else to go," she whispered sheepishly. At the stares of her friends, she raised her voice and started to explain, "This isn't what it looks like...um...well..."  
"What Granger is trying to say, but finds herself incapable of doing so, is when she was coming here from where ever she was before, something went wrong and she ended up at my house where..." Draco trailed off, not sure what he should say next. He didn't want them to know about the kiss or about how he had rejected the Dark Mark, hell, he didn't even want to be there. But the fact was, he was there, and he couldn't back out now. H had to and she knew it, this was his mission. Slowly and a bit shyly, Draco started to explain about Voldemort, the Dark Mark he had refused, the order to murder Hermione...everything except the kiss he had shared with the girl on his right.  
"Are you saying," Mr. Weasley questioned, looking unsure at the young man standing before him, "that you would rather join the light and fight against the Dark Lord?" Draco only nodded. Arthur smiled; he was wrong to have judged the son by his father.  
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry blurted with disgust. "Don't tell me you believe this evil, conniving little ferret!"  
"Opposed to believing your sorry ass?" Draco retorted with equal disgust and anger. Harry whipped his wand out and pressed it against Draco's chest, driving the point in hard.  
"Give me a reason and, so help me God, I'll do it," Harry spat, narrowing his eyes at Draco, "and you know I can." He noticed, however, that his wand nor his words posed a threat to Draco. Instead of whimpering and cowering like he had done in third year at the hands of Hermione, he tipped his head back and smirked.  
"You'd be doing me a favor," Draco breathed to his assailant.  
"Are you trying to tell me that you want to die?" Harry said, confused. No one should ever wish death upon themselves, that's not right. But you've thought of it, Harry's conscience whispered mockingly. Yes, Harry said back, I have. But I've experienced true pain, unlike this pampered, self-loving bastard. He's gone through nothing of the sort. Harry, feeling as though his actions were justified, was conjuring a curse, when his bothersome conscience once again spoke up: Or has he?  
Right as Draco was about to retort, he was pushed against the wall and someone infiltrated his carefully blocked thoughts. Now let's see why you really want to die, Harry's voice echoed. Draco closed his eyes. Harry searched through the thoughts and memories of his enemy until he found something that interested him.  
He saw a little boy who couldn't be older than three crying. It was Draco; he had fallen off his toy broomstick. His mother, Narcissia, was rushing over to pick him up when a man with blonde hair push her away.  
"Draco," the man said sternly. Harry knew immediately it was Lucius. "Get off your ass and stop crying." Draco tried to get up but it took him too long. "I thought I told you to get up and stop your damn crying," he barked, yanking his son up which made the young Draco yelp. "I said stop and I mean it!" Lucius spat, venom dripping from his tongue. With that he drew his hand back and smacked his son across the face as hard as he could, while Narcissia watched in fear. The picture soon faded and a new one came into view.  
Draco was seven and he was sitting with his mother in a huge room with books covering the shelves. His mother was reading to him, and she handed the book to Draco, saying, "How about you give it a try?" Draco smiled and received the book. Opening his mouth to read, he stopped when Lucius stormed into the room, seething. He looked at the two of them and a smirk formed on his lips- the same smirk that Harry had seen Draco use so many times before.  
"Accio Book!" he commanded, and the book went flying into his hands. After reading the title, he whispered something, and the book erupted into flames. "What have I said about muggle things in this house?" he said, his voice soft and murderous. Narcissia stood up quickly, placing herself between her son and the monster she had married.  
"It's not his fault," she said meekly. "I wanted to read it to him."  
"So it's you who's been filling my boy's head with this shit, " Lucius yelled. "I won't have that done, you bitch!" With a flick of his wrist, Draco was thrown and chained to a wall. Lucius grabbed Narcissia's wrist and threw her down in front of him. "Watch and learn," he said to Draco, smirking. "Your mother needs to be punished."  
Draco fought hard against his bonds, trying to reach his mother as Lucius ripped her clothes off. But as he struggled harder, Draco's chains tightened. Completely helpless, he was made to sit and watch while his father raped his wife. Harry felt resistance, but pushed and a new memory appeared.  
It was again Draco, but this time at age twelve, who was the focus of this thought. He was chained to a wall while his father stood before him, screaming, "You let a good for nothing mudblood bitch beat you in your studies!" Draco merely watched through half-closed eyes and said nothing. "Well," Lucius said, a little piqued that he hadn't merited a response. "I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson." With a slight movement, Lucius whispered, "Crucio," and Draco shuddered with pain. His body was being ripped apart, but Draco made no sound or voluntary movement. Lucius' anger proceeded to escalate, driving him to repeat curse after curse that tore his son to shreds. With a final flick, Draco's chains were gone and he fell to the floor. Standing, Draco looked up in time to receive a hard punch from his father, and was beaten physically until he was black and blue. The picture faded as Narcissia came in to help her battered son to his room.  
In the next one, Draco looked like to be about fifteen years old. He was holding a frail body in his lap and leaning over her face. "Mum, stay with me." Draco said, a faint quiver apparent in his voice. Narcissia beamed at him, though it hurt, and her beautiful smile was hardly apparent through the blood and cuts.  
"Draco," she said softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. "Oh, my handsome Draco, I need you to be strong for me. Okay?" She knew this was going to be the last time she would ever talk to her son. "I need you to be brave." Draco nodded, unable to speak, as he wiped the tears from his mother's face. "I need you to make me a promise so when I'm gone-" Narcissia started, but was interrupted.  
"But you're not going to be gone, you're going to stay here with me," Draco said, perfectly knowing that his mother, the only person who had ever given a damn about him, was dying.  
"Stop being stupid, Draco. We both know I'm dying. Now," she said, resuming her optimistic demeanor, "Promise me that you will never turn out like your father. I want you to get married and have a lovely life."  
"I promise." Draco took one last look at his mother's beautiful violet eyes as she closed them and breathed her last. Harry blinked back tears, but pushed for another. He was, however, rudely interrupted.  
"Ow!" Harry cried, dropping his wand and clutching his cheek. "What the bloody hell was that for Hermione?" The occupants of the room stared. Excepting Ron, everyone thought these two were the best of friends. It was unbelievable that she could ever have hurt Harry.  
"Could you all excuse Harry and me for a moment?" Hermione asked sweetly, without taking her eyes off of Harry's. "I doubt he'll want everyone to be present for this." They all made a rush for the door- the children going upstairs, Mr. Weasley leading Draco into the parlor, and Mrs. Weasley heading for the kitchens. The moment the door clicked shut, Hermione rounded on Harry, her eyes livid and her face contorted with anger.  
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she shrieked. Harry winced. "I can't believe you!" Why she had made everyone leave, Harry wasn't sure, because they all could hear her anyway. "You can't just enter people's minds at your own free will!" she screamed. Harry looked up and met her gaze with his own icy one.  
"I can and I will," he said softly. Hermione backed down, her anger giving way to confusion and disgust.  
"You're not the person I thought you were, Harry," she whispered. "You've changed. You're worse than even Malfoy." Harry shrugged and started for the door. "And we're not the best of friends like I thought, either," she finished, turning away.  
Harry turned back, anger rising in him, and took three long steps to reach Hermione. "Well," he yelled, "I'd decided you weren't a friend the moment you chose Malfoy over me!" He left, slamming the door behind him, and ran up to Ron's room. Hermione closed her eyes, and sank to her knees, crying. In one short day, everything she had ever held dear had fallen apart around her.  
When she heard a door creak open, Hermione tried in vain to wipe the tears from her eyes. Ginny came over and knelt next to her, and Hermione looked up, her eyes red and watery.  
"Come on, lets get you upstairs to my room," Ginny offered, helping Hermione up and directing her to their destination. They got there all right, but Hermione hadn't even reached the bed before she broke out into a fresh wave of tears. Ginny wrapped her arms around her friend and let her cry herself to sleep. When she felt the sobs subside and the breathing even out, Ginny carefully placed her friend's fragile figure on the bed, and went to find The-Boy-Who-Was-Fucking-Up-Everything to see if see could smack some sense into him.  
  
well there it is I hope u liked it! coughreviewcough


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